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Tuesday, 26 March 2013

"They Get Me"

I feel like I should title this post *Am Writing* because
for reasons known only to me I haven’t been able to write a damn thing 'worth reading' over the past few weeks. There have been so many things going on in my life (and head) that I haven’t known where to start. In fact, my problem was
probably that my muddled mind was attempting to fit ten blog posts into
one making very little sense in the process!

Today I feel I should start by explaining in some way my
last post which I suspect made no sense at all to anyone but me.

As most of you know my mental illness interferes with my
ability to cope with many everyday activities without the support of ‘The Body
Guard’ and those things I do manage alone are only doable if he is at least
nearby. I could give for instances but we would be here all day so I won't.

Probably most significant at the moment given the fear every DWP letter,
phone call and assessment instills in me is that my disability also prevents me
from working. (Trust me if I could work I would even if just to be free of ‘THEM’)
As I’m unable to function at home or outdoors without support it also prevents ‘TheBodyGuard’
from working, although given that I care for our disabled child with his help
and he cares for us both with no help (full time) I would (with all due
respect) ask those who see fit to judge us to *define work*

Anyway back to my last ramble (here) >> That thing that I do feels unsafe following a harmless conversation on twitter
I found myself imagining that the powers that be might be watching me, that
they might - a) object to my constant tweeting against the unfairness of a
system that treats vulnerable people so appallingly and - b) that as I am
(sometimes) capable of knocking out a blog and to some degree (though limited) use
a computer they would decide I am fit for work

Of course if this were to happen I wouldn't find myself miraculously
cured, (if it were that easy I’d have plonked myself in front of an ATOS
assessor 'voluntarily' years ago!) I could however be sanctioned for not doing as
I’m told though and this terrifies me. I mean really terrifies me, a constant, sometimes overwhelming fear that has served to exacerbate my symptoms dramatically!

Thoughts* that the powers that be might actually be
stalking me (*paranoid, obsessive, panicky terror would be more accurate) led
me to run away from a support network that quite frankly has become my life
line!

Without the support of these people, some of whom I've come to care
very much about and who I believe feel the same way about me I felt isolated,
afraid and extremely low. I continued to watch 'through the window so to speak' the comings and goings of my on line friends. I saw all their highs,
lows, happy moments and cries for help but despite my fingers
itching to tap out support, virtual hugs, encouragement and solidarity, fear
prevented me from doing so!

Selfishly after days of tears, isolation, intrusive
thoughts, and (though I’m ashamed to admit it) self harm, it was my own need of support that eventually prompted me to seek reassurance and after
a private conversation with someone I felt I could trust I was able to (tentatively at
first) step back into*The wonderful world of Twitter*.

Now some might question why this virtual world has become so
important to me, why many of the people there have come to mean so much to me. Well let me try and
explain.

I have a husband who is incredibly
supportive but he doesn’t suffer with mental illness so though he’s patient,
sympathetic and claims to love me regardless. *He doesn’t get me*

I have an elderly vulnerable mother who is reaching out to
me, she’s sorry for past actions, worried sick about me and so desperate to be
let in. A mother who knows exactly what it’s like to live with a mental illness.
She has changed beyond all recognition from the mother I feared as a child.

The arms that once lashed out at me are now wide open, the lips
that once spat such anger my way are now kissy, smiley and speak only of her love
for me. Her expression is loving, pleading, slightly pathetic and her rage a
thing of the past. BUT.... Though I can forgive her, I feel resentful and vulnerable in her presence.*I can’t trust her*

I have five amazing children who though not completely
untouched by their mum’s mental illness have been largely protected from it
over the years. Four of them are adults now and would listen to me if I asked
but I WON’T burden them any more than I have done in the past and with the possible exception of my middle son who has ADHD and some obsessive tendencies himself, *They
don’t get me*

I have a therapist who is kindness itself and paid to
listen. As pointed out to me by a good
friend recently, 'one to one' therapy is not that easy to come by and I’m very
lucky to have her. BUT *I’m afraid to trust her*

I have a psychiatrist who spends ten minutes every three
months trying to convince me that drugs are the answer to all my prayers,
seemingly unaware of the fact that I have tried various drugs in the past, (do
they ever read the notes)

Some tablets actually increased symptoms, others turned me
into a *far away person* (tongue stuck to roof of mouth, disassociated) and
some lead me into very dangerous territory. I'm afraid of medication! (I suspect there is another blog
here, watch this space)

Here is another person that I find difficult to trust and
unless his knowledge of mental illness comes from personal experience rather
than an education and a pile of text books, *He doesn't get me*

So there it is my friends, 'The wonderful world of Twitter' means so much to me because its full of empathetic people who I've never met and *They Get Me*

POSITIVE THOUGHT :O)

Next week I am going to meet one of my Twitter friends and
despite being *intrusive thoughty* kinda nervous I am also *bubbly tummy* very
excited! Eeeeek!

You know what seems really strange to me though (and reassuringly
positive)…. Despite having never met this person and despite OCD doing its best
to convince me otherwise *I TRUST HER*

P’S For all you spelling and grammar freaks out there, yes I
do know there’s no such word as *thoughty*
I write as I speak I’m afraid. This means of - course that if I ever get round
to writing that book I’ve been harping on about for years I’ll be an editors
nightmare!

PRAYER

Lord, Thank you for bringing me through a really tough few
weeks, for giving me the strength to cope with my own struggles and still be
open to those of others. Thank you for leading me to a whole bunch of
*lovelies* who are willing despite their own struggles to support me through
mine. Amen

Thank you as always friends for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

Authors note >> I feel I must point out that while my
own experience of medication in the past has been negative I have spoken to a
good number of people who have responded well to medication and subsequently noticed
improvement in their symptoms of mental illness. It’s also worth noting that in
my case fear of medication is exacerbated by intrusive thoughts, a symptom of ‘OCD’.

I really enjoyed your blog Kimmie! Fantastic honesty! I hope twitter continues to be a place where you can find others who understand your mental health difficulties and find the support that you need. Sending you my love x

hi kimmi have you ever been checked out for adhd? the two blogs iv read already are mirror images of inside my mind. my son has it as does yours and his consult then diagnosed me too. it is passed down generations of family although not all can be affected with it. iv three kids but only one has it.

thanks for pointing me to your blog i feel as though iv found a friend who "gets me" so thank you for sharing with us all it makes me feel not so alone with my complex disabilities of adhd depression ocd agoraphobia anorexia etc. i also have physical disabilities to overcome -or get used to too. take care. tracy

Tracy, I write this in the hope that you may see it despite it being so long since you left your comment. Thank you for reading and connecting with me here, I'm glad you feel less isolated in doing so. I'm not sure why I missed you in April but I'm sorry that I did. Take care Kimmie x

My scribbles include my own experience of mental illness, gambling addiction, and Fibromyalgia. Good and bad days (past and present). Life in general, lots of poetry, and occasionally a little of my nonsense. :o) It helps me to share; I hope that somewhere in my ramblings you find something that helps you... Kimmie x